They drove
up to Los Angeles a couple days later after James had booked
a recording studio. James had his trusty violin-shaped, left-handed
Hofner bass in one hand and his acoustic guitar slung over his
back and Shelle carried a few pages of lyrics.

They set up and some studio musicians came in and talked over
the arrangements with the producer and James. They rehearsed
a few times, getting familiar with the "one special"-the
special song for Lindy and with the harmonies. Shelle sat at
the piano, learning her part quickly.

Soon they had a few "rehearsals" down (nobody had
called out a 'take') and were ready to start. James looked over
the neck of his guitar to Shelle and sang quietly as someone
yelled, "Take one!":

" 'And now you know the words, just sing it through to
me.'" He ran his fingers up and down the frets.

"Ready?" James said.

Shelle smiled at him with a smile he'd always remember and answered:
"Ready."

Epilogue

The sea breeze
flowed like water through Shelle's reddish-brown hair, bringing
out the golden tints not unlike Lindy's. Her mysterious, luminous
eyes surveyed the tumultuous blues of the water contrasting with
the tranquil indigo of sky. She clasped her slim hands 'round
her knees with the air of one at gentle peace. James lay next
to her, hands folded under his dark head, beautiful eyes closed,
ankles crossed, humming the song they had recorded for Lindy.
They rested on some rocks on the edge of the shore, taking a
day away from Shelle's bustling town.

"James Mac? Is that James Mac?" A voice cut through
the stillness that only the crashing waves dared disrupt.

James's eyes opened and his head jerked up with a start.

"Can we help you?" Shelle was standing, brushing the
sand from herself, her white shirt fluttering open about her
brightly-coloured bathing suit top.

"Yes," the person responded. "Are you Shelle
Stanley?"

"Yes, I am," Shelle replied, a little bewilderedly.

"I'm pleased to meet you." The person, a man, shook
her hand. "Didn't know you were so young."

"Yeah, well, um..." Shelle was at a loss for something
to say. She found herself and asked, "Really, sir, did you
need something?"

The man produced something from his pocket. Shelle recognized
it as the single of the song they had done. He also pulled out
a pen. Shelle looked at him.

"No, it's not what you think," he said to Shelle's
eyes. "I know you're thinking, why does this man have a
CD single on a beach and one that just happens to be by you?"

"You're right," Shelle rejoined. "I was wondering."

"Well, I saw you and James-" he nodded his head to
James who had just come to stand with Shelle "-in Fallbrook
a while back. I noticed you in the town below that and I saw
you driving off today. I'd just bought the song, so I thought..."
He trailed off, a little embarrassed.

No, Shelle thought. If I'd been embarrassed, where would I be?
Would I have still gone to James? She took the pen and signed
the single and then handed it to James. He signed it and then
gave it back to the man, who was overjoyed.

"Thank you, thank you," he spluttered.

James nodded and put his arm around Shelle. The man studied
them quizzically, his head cocked slightly to one side. They
briefly chatted and before the man turned to go, he said,

"Are you two related? You sure look like it. There's some
kind of bond between you, something strong."

James and Shelle looked at each other, grinned and embraced,
not as cousin and cousin, not as uncle and niece, nor as father
and daughter. They embraced with the strong love that had joined
them together across the oceans and time.

The man smiled, though he obviously didn't know what had passed
between them and then handed Shelle an envelope.

"I noticed this on the ground before I spoke to you,"
he explained. Indicating the envelope, which bore the name 'Shelle
Stanley,' "That's how I knew who you were. I knew you were
on the single, but like I said, I hadn't much of an idea to your
age. I never really saw you up close. Here you go."

Shelle looked at it and recognized it as the envelope that had
been inside one of the music books when James had given them
to her in England. She realized she had never read it. Well,
she thought, no time like the present. She said a gracious thanks
to the man and tore it open. In it was a letter, too sweet and
loving to relate, mostly thanking Shelle for what she had done
for James, a colour picture of James and Shelle posing for 'that
lady photographer,' and the original press statement that James
had written when Lindy died.

Shelle's eyes skimmed over it and stopped on the words,

"I love you, Lindy. James xxxxxx."
And underneath them was written, "And I love you, Shelle."